


Be my Savior

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rescue attempt goes badly and both Howard and Steve pay the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be my Savior

When Howard opened his eyes, he thought he was still dreaming. That was the only explanation for the red-faced monster staring down at him.

“Well, well, Mr. Stark, you’re finally awake,” it said.

He swallowed back a wave of nausea and licked his lips nervously. “That’s the last time I drink and fly.”

“Such wit, Mr. Stark.”

“I think you have me at a… disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know you.” He tried to shift, that’s when he realized he was strapped down.

“Oh, but of course. Forgive me for forgetting my manners. I am Johann Schmidt. I think your government has been looking for me.”

Oh God, oh God! “Schmidt? Sorry, the name’s not ringing any bells. But then, I don’t read the newspapers, too depressing.”

“Prevarications, Mr. Stark? How surprising. Still, I think you know more than you let on. Let’s start with everything you know about Steve Rogers.”

Steve? Why the hell would he ask about Steve? Unless… His stomach clenched in fear. “Who?”

Schmidt turned, picked up a scalpel from the table to his left, and held it up to the light. “If you insist, we shall do this the hard way.”

*****

Howard screamed. He screamed until his voice gave out and his throat felt like it was on fire.

He knew he wasn’t a hero, but he hadn't thought he was a coward either. Schmidt showed him the truth.

*****

“Please, oh, God, please,” he sobbed. “I’ll tell you, just please stop!”

*****

Steve’s voice and hands were like cool water soothing away the burning pain. ”Shh, Howard, I have you. You’re safe, you’re safe.”

But never for long.

It brought a thrill of dark satisfaction whenever he heard Steve say, “I’m going to kill you, Schmidt. I’m going to rip you to pieces.”

*****

They rarely took Steve, but when they did, fear left Howard trembling and soaked in sweat.

But Steve always came back, bruised and bloody, his eyes a little colder, a little harder.

*****

“Tell me about Erskine’s last experiment, Mr. Stark.” Schmidt looked down at him with that horrible red face.

Howard whimpered softly and shook his head, not because he wouldn’t talk, but because there was nothing new to say.

“Very well.” Schmidt touched the tip of the metal wand to his chest.

Howard convulsed as an electrical current ran through his body. He bit his tongue and his bowels released. How much longer? Please, God, he thought, let me die. Let me die.

But Schmidt knew the limits of endurance and pulled the wand away. “Now, what do you have to say, Mr. Stark?”

He let the blood gather in his mouth and spat at the bastard. None of it made it to Schmidt, but it was the thought that counted.

*****

His fingers. Oh, God, his fingers.

Steve tried to console him. “They’re just broken, Howard, just broken.”

Broken. What would he do if he couldn’t hold a wrench? How would he build things? What would he do if he couldn’t use his fingers?

*****

“I’ll cut out your tongue first, Mr. Stark. So you cannot scream when I cut off your hands and your feet and your genitals.”

*****

Sometimes, he asked Steve to kill him. Sometimes, he knew Steve seriously considered it.

*****

"Do everything I say, Howard," Steve whispered into his ear. "When they come, you have to struggle. Struggle as hard as you can. I won't let them take you again. I promise. One way or another, Schmidt won't touch you again."

He nodded and pressed his face against Steve's chest. He trusted Steve to do what was necessary.

*****

It hurt to struggle, his whole body screamed at him, but he fought hard, like he did in the beginning. They tried to hold him, to beat him into submission, but soon they had other things to worry about. He crawled into a corner, curled into a tight little ball, and watched.

Steve… he was brutal. Efficient. Howard's breath caught in his throat and he wondered if Erskine would be proud. He wondered, would Schmidt?

He didn't remember a lot, just the whine of the alarms and Steve hauling him up the shirt and shoving a weapon into his useless hands.

"Let's go. Now!" There was blood on Steve's face and hands and for a moment he looked…

No, no. Howard shook his head and took a deep breath. "Now."

His lungs burned and his legs felt like rubber, but he followed Steve, weaving through the path of corpses.

Maybe he wasn't fast enough, he never was good at sports, because Steve put him in a fireman's carry and ran. Howard closed his eyes and let darkness take him.

*****

He opened his eyes and looked around: he was in the passenger seat of a truck. "There's blood on your face."

"You're awake, good. We're gonna have to ditch the truck soon. It's almost out of gas." Steve spared him a quick glance.

"There's blood on your face," he said again.

"Yeah." Steve's breath hitched in his throat and his face crumpled. "I… I…"

"I don't care." He licked his lips and sat up. "They deserved it. They deserved everything they got."

Steve took a deep breath and wiped his nose. "Yeah, sure. Yeah."

"You had to keep your promise to me. You're Captain America."

"Don't call me that," Steve said sharply. " _He_ called me that."

"Okay. Do you know where we are?" Howard held his hands close to his chest and peered out at their surroundings as if it would give him clues.

"Still in Austria, I think. Do you know any German?"

"Just _guten tag_ and _mein platz oder Ihr_?"

Steve gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "What?"

"Good day and my place or yours."

"God, we're in trouble." Steve's voice shook and he scrubbed his face with his hand.

Howard could tell that he was falling apart and… damn it, he couldn't. Howard needed him to keep it together. One of them needed to keep it together. "Steady on, soldier."

"I'm not a soldier! I'm a trained monkey in a costume! I thought… I thought I could… But he caught me. I don't even know if it was worth it, if the others, if Bucky, made it back safely." He sobbed. "I massacred those people. I made their heads… Oh, God."

Steve slammed on the brakes and turned off the ignition before stumbling out and retching. Howard leaned his head back against the seat and stared up at the roof of the truck. It was a long time before Steve climbed back into the vehicle, his face wet.

"I need you," he whispered. "Steve, I need you. I can't… You can't fall apart." Howard slid over and laid his head on Steve's shoulder. "I can't do this without you. Please, don't make me do this without you." His eyes stung and his voice shook. "Promise me that you'll get us home. Promise me."

Steve took a deep breath and straightened in his seat. "I promise. I'll get us home." He turned the ignition.

They drove until the truck ran out of gas, then Steve pushed it far from the dirt road, behind a copse of trees, where it wouldn’t be seen, and took the limited supplies they found.

Howard didn’t know how long or far they stumbled along. He didn’t even know if they were going in the right direction. He just followed Steve.

"There," Steve said suddenly and pointed ahead at what looked like the beginning of a forest. "Cover. We can find water, patch up our wounds."

"Get some sleep?" Howard's words slurred together from exhaustion.

"Can you make it?" Steve gently put his hand on Howard's back. "I can carry you."

He thought about it for a second. "Carry me."

"All right." Steve once again slung Howard over his shoulder.

At one time, long ago, it might have been humiliating, but he was too tired to care.

*****

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he next opened his eyes, it was dark and Steve was gently laying him against a tree.

"There's water close by, I can hear it. Wait here while I fill the canteens. Keep the guns close."

"I can go with you," he said, panic lacing his words, but Steve shook his head.

"You're dead on your feet, Howard. I'll be back. Promise." Steve gently ran a hand through Howard's hair as if reminding himself that Howard was real.

He nodded and forced himself to breathe evenly. Steve always kept his promises. Always. He kept reminding himself of that as Steve walked away, but in the end, he had to close his eyes.

He dozed off again, only waking because Steve was gently maneuvering him onto his back. He jerked slightly.

"Easy, it's just me." Steve smiled down at him. "I'm going to re-bandage your hands and then you can sleep, alright?"

"Alright," he whispered. He looked away, into the fire that Steve must have built when he was asleep. He didn’t want to see his hands. He didn't want to know what sort of damage had been done.

It hurt when Steve took off the bandages, a deep throbbing pain that seemed to travel up his arms, and he gritted his teeth and stared into the heart of the fire.

"I think they'll be fine," Steve said. "I think I got them all straightened out. It's just a matter of time now."

Howard didn't want to talk about it. "It's going to be cold tonight." He could already feel the promise of winter in the air.

Steve wound the gauze around Howard's fingers, taking his time, trying to be gentle. "Yeah. Won't be the first time we huddled together for warmth though."

No, it wouldn't. Schmidt's little dungeon had been freezing and even Steve had felt the sting of it. "I miss my bed."

Steve laughed softly. "A couple of blocks from my apartment, there's this diner, they have the best burgers in Brooklyn."

To hell with burgers. "I could use a steak."

"You could use a couple of steaks." Steve ran a hand along Howard's ribs. "You're skin and bones."

He quirked his lips. "Better get hunting then, Super Soldier."

"Tomorrow," Steve said, and stretched out next to him. "I'm beat."

Howard turned and settled himself against Steve's chest. "Think you can kill us a couple of baked potatoes, too?"

"I'll see what I can do."

*****

Howard woke up at the insistence of his bladder. He opened his eyes and shivered in the early morning cold. Steve was already up, tending to the fire.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

He grunted. God, he could use a cup of coffee. It was a bit of a struggle to get to his feet without putting pressure on his hands, but somehow he managed. "Need to piss."

Steve nodded. "I found some apples for breakfast."

So much for steak. He stumbled off behind some bushes and made to unbutton his pants. He stopped and took a deep breath. He couldn't unbutton his pants. His bladder throbbed and tears of frustration stung his eyes.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

"Steve," he said, humiliation burning in his belly. "Come here, please."

A few moments later, Steve appeared. "What's wrong?"

"I can't… I…" He gestured to his fly.

"Oh." Steve turned bright red. "Well, um, let me…"

Howard looked away as Steve undid his trousers and exposed him. His face grew hot as Steve held him and he relieved himself.

When he was tucked back in, and buttoned back up, Steve spoke. "It's not a big deal, Howard."

But it was. It was another humiliation meted out by Schmidt. "You said you found apples."

"Yeah, they're a little small, but I can't do much else without a knife and those guns we got from the guards will just disappear whatever I shoot."

"You can't disappear something, Steve."

Steve smiled; it was an argument they'd had before. "Sure you can."

"There's no such thing as magic."

"Says you."

"That's right. Says the guy with advanced degrees in physics and engineering."

"All right, all right, professor." Steve laid his hand on Howard's shoulder and gave an affectionate squeeze. "Come on, I'm hungry."

Breakfast presented another problem thanks to his hands, but Steve didn't blink an eye. Steve fed Howard the apple and brought the canteen of water to his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

*****

Steve never complained, not when he wiped Howard's ass or held his dick when he pissed or fed him. Howard's frustration, his humiliation, was met with the same patience Steve used to check his fingers and re-bandage them.

*****

"There's a village up ahead." Steve said, one morning at breakfast. "I think I'm going to have to chance going into town. I can go tonight, see if I can find something useful."

Howard swallowed hard against the lump of fear in his throat. "I'll do it."

"What—? Howard, you're in no shape—"

"Steve, you're a walking, talking American flag. If they catch you, they'll probably shoot you on sight."

"You're just being stupid."

"No, I'm not." He was being pragmatic. What would happen to him if Steve died? He couldn't even wipe his nose without help.

"Suicidal then. You can't even close your hands. Besides, I'm the one with the military training."

"Steve…"

"No. Now shut up." Steve's voice quivered slightly and his hands shook as he offered Howard a bit of wrinkled apple.

*****

Howard tried to be as quiet as possible as he huddled against the tree. Without Steve, the dark of the forest seemed more sinister: every sound brought a gasp to his lips, every second seemed to drag on interminably. He shook from the cold, from the fear that pressed against his chest, making every breath a struggle.

He kept telling himself that Steve would be back soon, but he couldn't make himself believe it. He wasn't that lucky. Not anymore.

Howard didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to die alone.

He heard the snap of a twig and he jumped slightly, heart pounding.

"Howard," Steve whispered, and a moment later, he emerged from the darkness, a sack flung over one shoulder. "Get up, we have to go. Now."

Relief made him dizzy, but somehow he managed to get to his feet. Before another word could be said, Howard launched himself at Steve, burying his face in the man's chest.

Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him tightly. "Hey, hey, calm down. I told you I'd be back. Come on, Howard, pull yourself together. You can have a nervous breakdown in the morning. Right now we have to go."

"Why?" Howard asked, his voice muffled. "What did you do?"

"What I had to."

He almost asked Steve to elaborate, but a second later changed his mind. "Let's go, then."

They didn't stop moving until mid-morning. By then, Howard was dead on his feet, stumbling over the ground, his eyes burning, his legs cramping. When Steve called for them to stop, he practically collapsed on the ground in a daze.

"Time to eat."

Howard shook his head. "Don't think I can. Too tired."

Steve reached rummaged through the rucksack he'd taken from the village and grinned. "Not even for bread and cheese?" He held them up, looking very much like a proud little boy showing off to his parents.

Howard's mouth watered and he sat up straighter. "Okay, maybe I can eat."

Steve tore off a bit of bread and fed it to him. For once, he didn't care.

When they were done, they stretched out under a blanket Steve had stolen. He pressed up against Steve, his belly full, feeling warm and safe, happy. Steve ran a gentle hand up and down his back and he closed his eyes.

"Did you kill them?" he said, finally asking the question that kept tumbling through his brain. "Steve?"

"Shut up, Howard. Go to sleep."

*****

He woke hours later to Steve gently fingering his beard. He made a sleepy, puzzled sound that made Steve smile.

"It makes you look older."

"Mmm." Howard stretched against Steve, wincing slightly as his calves protested. "So does yours."

"It itches."

"You'll get used to it." He sighed and squirmed slightly. "Have to piss."

Steve chuckled. "You've got a bladder the size of a peanut."

"Shut up." His face warmed. "You're the one who keeps pouring water down my throat."

"Well, if you're tired of water, I'll open the bottle of wine I got yesterday."

Howard lifted his head. "Wine? You found us wine?"

"I don't know how good it is."

"Steve, I could kiss you."

Steve's eyes widened and his breath hitched in his throat. "Yeah?" he whispered.

Howard's stomach did an uncomfortable flip-flop and he rolled away onto his back. "Help me up before I piss myself."

Steve pushed off the blanket and got to his feet in one smooth movement, then gripped the front of Howard's shirt and pulled.

Once on his feet, Howard stumbled slightly and Steve moved steadying hands to his hips. "Thanks."

"Sure," Steve said, his voice husky, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary.

He took a step back and turned quickly before Steve could… Well, he didn't know what Steve could do. Would do. Not anymore. He felt dizzy, out of sorts, as if the world had shifted two miles to the right and now the whole terrain had changed.

He stumbled along, until he was far enough away from camp, then stopped. Steve came up behind him and reached around. Howard hated this position, it left him jumpy, uncomfortable, but it was also the easiest way for Steve to help.

Steve quickly unbuttoned Howard's pants and drew him out.

Howard's breath caught in his throat as heat flared in his belly, making his pulse race and his dick harden. He didn't, he didn't want this.

"Oh. You can't… I can…" Steve sounded out of breath and he stepped closer.

Howard shuddered; he could feel Steve, hard and insistent, against the small of his back.

"Let me take care of you."

No. No, no, no! He wasn't like this, he didn't want it to be like this. He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily.

"Howard?" Steve sounded as lost as he felt.

He should pull away, he should tell Steve no. Instead, he nodded and Steve…

God, Steve's grip was firm and his strokes were steady. He made Howard squirm and moan, He whispered softly into Howard's ear, little nonsense phrases, things he used to say to give comfort when they were in that damn dungeon.

He wished that Steve would just shut up. Every word left him feeling a little sicker, a little more broken. When he finally spilled onto Steve's fingers, Steve held him tightly, whispering that it was all right, that it was perfect.

But it wasn't right. He wanted to tell Steve that, but before he could, he was spun around and kissed. Howard didn't know who taught Steve to kiss like that, in turns possessive and needy, a kiss that was better than any sex that Howard had ever had.

No. He forced himself to concentrate on something else, anything else. He squirmed slightly. "Gotta piss, Steve."

"Hold it." Steve licked at Howard's mouth, then sucked on his bottom lip.

"No!" He pulled away. "Now. Please, I can't hold it."

"Okay," Steve said reluctantly, his voice lust-rough and deep.

After, he tried for another kiss, but Howard turned away. "No. I don't want to. I don't want this."

"You don't…" Steve turned away, suddenly and shuddered. "Okay, sorry. Sorry, I…"

"Forget it. Doesn't matter." He tensed, waiting for Steve's response.

"Right. Right, it doesn't matter."

*****

Only it did. It was immediately obvious that it did. The warmth and gentle patience that Steve had shown him was gone, leaving a sort of cold efficiency behind. Oh, Steve wasn't cruel, not outright, but he still left Howard feeling bereft.

The casual touches that Steve often gave him— a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, a hand running through his hair, a caress against his back --- were gone. Steve wouldn't even look at him. At night, Steve would sleep on the other side of the fire, leaving Howard cold and achingly alone.

He wondered how long Steve would punish him.

*****

After three days, Howard would have done anything to get his Steve back.

*****

Ten days after, he felt as if he'd shattered into pieces.

*****

Two weeks, and he couldn't do it anymore. If he didn't get his Steve back, he'd find a way to cut his wrists and be done with it.

That night was the same, Howard huddled under the blanket, trying to keep warm while Steve sat as far from him as possible and stared into the fire.

"You should sleep," he said.

"In a bit." Steve fed the fire.

"Now. We have a long day tomorrow and it's too cold, even for you." He lifted the blanket. "Come to bed."

Steve's gaze flickered away. "I'm fine."

"I'm not. I'm cold. I'm cold all the time. Please, Steve, come to bed." He swallowed hard. "Don't make me beg. Please?"

Steve let out a soft, almost amused, huff of breath, and got to his feet. After a momentary hesitation, he crawled under the blanket, and lay, stiff as a board, at Howard's side.

The horrible tension of the last few weeks, drained from Howard's body, leaving him almost giddy. He curled up against the man, head on Steve's shoulder. Bit by bit, he could feel Steve relax.

He closed his eyes, drowsing, once again warm and safe, when Steve spoke.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry about what I did. That I… I did something you didn't want. I never meant to do that to you, Howard. Never."

Steve sounded devastated and Howard wondered, for the first time, if maybe these past few weeks Steve had been punishing himself.

"Steve, I know." He lifted his head. "You… I…" Howard didn't know what to say to make it right. He wanted Steve to smile again. He let out a frustrated sound and pressed a soft kiss to Steve's mouth.

Steve moaned, his eyes fluttering shut, and Howard felt a stab of something hot deep inside him. "Are you sure, Howard?"

It still felt wrong, but for Steve, he'd deal with it. "Yes."

That was all Steve needed, he met the kiss with the same passion and need as two weeks ago and Howard found himself responding. Steve's hands moved over his body and the kisses got sloppier.

Steve pulled Howard on top of him and they rubbed against each other, moaning and panting. It wasn't quite enough this way, Howard kept trying to use his hands; it was throwing him off balance.

"Wait, wait, let me…" He used his forearms to push himself up, so that he was straddling Steve's hips. He began to move, slowly at first, teasing Steve with the pressure, then faster as Steve caught the rhythm.

It was good… no, no, he should be honest about this, it was fantastic. Perfect. They ground against each other and he knew that in the morning his thighs and hips were going to protest, but he didn't care. Steve was, God, he took Howard's breath away.

"Howard," Steve moaned, arching up.

And, oh, the sound of his name in that voice, that choked, needy voice, was… Howard cried out, jerking his hips as he came. Steve wasn't far behind him.

When they were both done, Howard slumped against Steve's chest. "Mmm, 's good."

Steve stroked his hair. "Yeah. I love you, Howard."

Oh, oh, damn. "Steve," he said, "God, Steve." And kissed him.

Steve kissed back, lazily, as if he hadn't just shifted Howard's world again.

After awhile, he pulled away, and took a good look at Steve. "You ever been with a man?"

The content look on Steve's face slipped and something painful took its place. "Schmidt—"

"Schmidt doesn’t count for a damn thing," he said, the sudden knowledge of what Schmidt had done to Steve making his words harsher than he meant them.

Steve looked away. "No. Never been with anyone."

God, it was the blind leading the blind.

"We'll figure it out, Howard."

One of them damn well better or neither of them would get out of this intact.

*****

They found shelter on an abandoned farm before the first snow. The farmhouse was gutted, the roof gone, but the barn was mostly intact.

He was stretched out on the sweet smelling hay, Steve above him, feeding him bits of cheese between long, lazy kisses. Desire came slowly for him, but Steve couldn't get enough. Every touch, no matter how innocent, brought a flare of need to Steve's eyes.

Howard had to admit that need was exhilarating. To know that Steve wanted him that much, that he was willing to do anything for a touch, a kiss, it made Howard squirm. It leveled the playing field. Steve's desire made him just as dependent on Howard as Howard was on him.

And, God, the sex was great. When Howard let himself go, when he let himself take what Steve was offering, it was sweet and exciting and it made him feel safe.

"You're distracted," Steve said, nipping at his lower lip.

"Am I?" He licked Steve's mouth.

"Yeah. What're you thinking about?"

You, he thought. "We can't stay here much longer. We're running out of food and we have to make it to safety before the weather gets too bad."

"I know, I've been thinking about it, too. I'll go out tonight, see if I can find another farmhouse, one with people. I might be able to get more food."

"We shouldn't separate." Howard wrapped an arm around Steve's neck and pulled him in for another kiss. "It's too dangerous."

Steve moaned softly and deepened the kiss. After a moment, he pulled away slightly. "Howard, you can't come. I can cover more ground without you. Stay here, where it's warm. I'll find you some gloves. I know you hands hurt with the cold."

"They're mostly healed." He flexed them slowly, wincing at the twinges of pain.

Steve grabbed hold of his left wrist and kissed a palm. "I'll be back by morning."

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how lonely it would be without Steve. "I don’t like it."

"Duly noted."

*****

Howard stayed up all night waiting for Steve to come back. When morning came, he watched the horizon, but still no Steve. He forced himself to breathe, in and out, calmly.

He should do something: eat, drink, or sleep. But he couldn't move, couldn't take his eyes off the horizon.

His hands ached with the cold, so he tucked them under his armpits.

Morning passed slowly and with its passing the concerns of his body made themselves known: his stomach growled, his throat was so dry it hurt to swallow, and his bladder clamored for relief.

He could probably get his pants open. It would be a slow process, but he probably could. He could piss without moving from his position.

But then he thought about how much Steve liked undoing his pants for him, liked holding his dick, and tucking him back in afterward. He thought about the kisses he got after, sweet and warm. That would stop once he could unbutton his own pants.

He couldn't do that to Steve.

Howard held it for as long as he could. And when he couldn't anymore, he told himself it was all right. Steve would clean him up later.

*****

Another night passed and Howard thought of the gun that Steve left with him. He could use it now. He could make himself disappear, just like magic.

He glanced over at it and wondered if it would hurt, if even for that split second.

Howard slowly made his way towards it, warily, as if it would rear up and attack him. When he was close enough, he picked it up. Yes, his hands hurt, but he could do this. He could pull the trigger.

He wouldn't even have to worry about getting a good angle for the headshot.

"Gonna go hunting?"

Howard gasped and he turned. Steve stood in the doorway, dirty and unkempt, but smiling. He dropped the gun and launched himself at Steve. "Where were you? Dammit, you were supposed to be back yesterday!" He buried his face in Steve's neck, trembling violently.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Steve hugged him tightly. "Howard, I’m so sorry. I had to avoid the patrols. It was harder than I thought."

"P-patrols?" He lifted his head to look up at Steve.

"Yeah." Steve gave him a brilliant smile, then kissed him. "We're about a day and a half from the front line. If we move fast, we can probably be back at camp by dinner tomorrow. Isn't that great?"

It was, it was fantastic. Howard smiled and ignored the worry that gnawed at his gut.

*****

When they walked into camp, dirty and tired, it was obvious that no one could quite believe it. Howard was relieved to note that Carter was there, among the crowd itching to get a look at them, just as beautiful as always.

Steve spared her a smile and a quick hug, but his attention was elsewhere. His gaze moved over the crowd, a little frown on his lips. Howard watched him and could tell the exact moment that Steve spotted Bucky Barnes: his eyes lit up and he moved forward, pushing through the crowd.

"Bucky," he shouted, laughter in his voice.

Bucky surged forward, and when he could, he threw his arms around Steve and pulled him into a fierce hug. "I knew you'd make it back. I knew it, Steve."

"You're okay." Steve hugged him, just as tightly. "I wasn't sure… but you're here."

Howard looked away, fighting back the bitter jealousy that overwhelmed him. He wasn't needed now.

Steve wouldn’t even miss Howard; he was too wrapped up in Barnes.

The knowledge made his eyes sting and before he could embarrass himself, he turned and fled.

He told himself that he wasn't admitting defeat; he stank and a hot shower would help the aching in his hands. He stole some clean clothes and bar of soap from one of the tents, then hit the showers.

The hot water was heavenly and he closed his eyes, groaning softly. Clean, oh, God, he missed being clean. He grabbed the soap and began lathering his hair and skin, trying to get rid of the months of dirt and body fluids. He tried not to think about Steve. About Barnes.

The door opened, but he ignored it, instead concentrating on getting his beard clean.

"Need someone to wash your back?"

Howard tensed slightly, but continued to scrub his face. "Finally pulled yourself away from Barnes, I see."

"He says I stink." Steve stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower.

"You do stink." He closed his eyes and ducked under the spray.

"Why did you disappear without telling me?" Steve slid a hand down Howard's back and fingered his ass.

Howard let out a gasp and his dick hardened. "D-Didn't want to disturb your reunion with Barnes."

Steve laughed softly. "Are you jealous?"

He jerked away from Steve's touch.

"You are! Oh, Howard." Steve wrapped his arms around Howard's waist. "Bucky's my best friend and I love him like a brother." He pressed his erection against Howard's belly. "He doesn't do this to me. He doesn't make me feel the way you do."

"It'll be different now." Howard leaned into Steve's body and shivered.

"Maybe. Phillips is shipping us off to England tomorrow; they've got some sort of secret SSR base there. But I'm not letting you go, Howard. You still need me, don't you?" Steve looked at him hopefully.

He closed his eyes as Steve brushed their mouths together. "Yes, I still need you."

Steve shifted his hips, making Howard gasp, and smiled. "Good. Now let me show you how much I need you."

*****

Howard sat at the table, slowly flexing his hands, wishing he had gloves to keep them warm. After a moment, he took a sip of water. He knew what Phillips was trying to do, he'd done this sort of thing himself during certain business dealings. He breathed deeply.

When the door opened, Howard smiled and reminded himself that Steve had gone through his own debriefing the day before.

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Stark." The colonel sat across from Howard, his face impassive.

"Of course. I know how busy you are."

Phillips smiled companionably. "Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind something stronger than water. But I'm told that would interfere with the medication I'm taking. So, no, I'm fine."

"Let's get started then, shall we? Tell me, Mr. Stark, how did a civilian contractor manage to get captured behind enemy lines?"

"Bad luck, I suppose." He shrugged.

"Mr. Stark..." Phillips voice went low, dangerous, and Howard fought back a shudder.

"Agent Carter came to me, asked if it was true, if I really could fly a plane or if I was just boasting. I told her yes, I could fly a plane and she said she needed me for a mission. Steve was going to find the men captured by Schmidt." She said he'd be a hero if he helped. She said they could have dinner together. "I agreed to help them."

He was quiet and after a few minutes, Phillips gestured for him to continue.

"I wasn't expecting there to be so much enemy fire. I got Steve to his jump point, but after it was… it was too much. They hit an engine and I knew we were going down. I… I told Carter to use the spare parachute."

"She argued with you?"

Howard laughed. "Yeah, but I can be a very persuasive guy, Colonel. The last thing I remember is trees, lots and lots of trees." No, that wasn't all. He remembered the gut clenching fear and the way he pleaded under his breath for a miracle. He remembered wanting to throw up and cry. "When I woke up, I was strapped to a table and Schmidt was staring at me."

"Do you need a moment, Mr. Stark?"

"No, no, I want to get this over with." Howard picked up his glass of water with a shaky hand and took a drink. Then he carefully set it back down on the table. "Schmidt wanted to know… H-He asked me… about Steve and Erskine's experiment. I told him I didn't know. That's when he… he…"

"Mr. Stark—"

"Shut up and let me finish." Howard closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "He picked up a scalpel and said, fine, we'll do it the hard way. Then he asked if I… if I ever had my skin peeled off. He said, he'd only take a small sliver off the top, but if I didn't talk, he'd go deeper."

"How much did you tell him, Howard?" the colonel asked softly.

"Everything," he sobbed quietly. "In the end, I told him everything."

*****

Phillips was meticulous in his questioning and by the end of their conversation Howard was an emotional wreck.

"Would you like me to call the doctor, Howard?"

He shook his head. "Steve. I need to talk to Steve."

"All right. He's waiting out in the hallway." Phillips opened the door and Steve practically flew in and knelt by Howard's side.

"Howard, it's okay. Shhh, it's okay." He rubbed his palm against Howard's back. "I'm here, you're safe."

He waited until Phillips left the room before shoving the chair away and curling against Steve. "Please, I need you. I need you to... to…"

"To what? What do you need?" Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Take care of me. Do something, anything. Please. Now." He buried his face against Steve's neck, the anxiety and fear building inside of him.

Steve rose to his feet, pulling Howard up with him. "I'll take care of you." He carefully unbuttoned Howard's pants.

Howard whimpered when Steve freed his dick; he was still soft.

"I know, I know, you can't get it up. That's not what I need you to do." He turned Howard around and held his dick. "Piss."

Howard flushed. "Here? Phillips will be furious."

"Good. Now go on, I know you want to. I know you like it when I help you like this. Go on, Howard, do it for me. When we get out of here, I'll take you to the mess and feed you dinner."

"Then take me to bed? Your bed?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. Oh, yeah."

*****

"No."

"Dammit, Howard, be reasonable." Steve held him by the upper arms and shook him gently. "You'll be safer at home."

"No, I don’t care what the psychiatrist says, I don't care if it'll be safer for me, I am not going home! I am staying right here with you."

"The military can make you."

"They can try." He leaned in and kissed Steve. "Don't let them send me home. Who'll take care of me?"

"Howard," Steve whispered, "that's not fair."

"I don't want to be fair. I want to be with you. I can help you find Schmidt."

"No." Steve rested his forehead against Howard's.

"Yes, I deserve to watch that bastard die just as much as you do."

"You're a civilian. It's too dangerous."

Howard smiled. "If my suit works out the way I plan, I'll be safer than you.

"Suit? What do you mean?"

"What do you know about body armor?"

*****

The first time he initiated the body suit, he almost set himself on fire. From that point on, the Howling Commandos took to calling him The Human Torch.

The second time was better; he hovered in mid-air for about ten seconds before the processors blew.

The twentieth time, he flew.

*****

"You squeak worse than the Tin Man, Stark,"

"I'm surprised you can hear anything over the sound of your yapping, Barnes."

"Guys, come on, enough." Steve sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"How the hell are we suppose to sneak up on anybody when he's making all that noise!"

"Can it, Buck. You're making more noise than he is right now. You're giving me a headache." He gestured for everyone to stop. "We'll stay here for the night, get an early start tomorrow. Come here, Howard, let's get you out of that suit."

Howard walked over and let Steve undo all the latches of his armor and strip him. His hair was plastered to his head and the padding under his suit was soaked through with sweat. "It's hotter than hell in this thing."

"Yeah, and you smell like a rusted tin can."

"Well, not all of us can wear red, white, and blue leather, Captain America." Howard brushed his mouth against Steve's.

"You know you shouldn't do that." Steve smiled and ran his thumb along Howard's jaw.

"They already hate me, Steve. I'm the rich pansy who's corrupted their great leader."

"Yeah." Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Bucky didn't believe me when I told him that I seduced you. Speaking of which, how are you doing? Do you need anything?"

"Always."

"We'll sneak off for a bit tonight. Drink lots of water and don't let Bucky get to you, okay?"

He gave a small salute. "I'll do my best."

*****

Howard didn’t throw up in his helmet, but it was a close call. He scrambled at the catches of the helmet, then pulled it off with just enough time to spare. He fell to his knees, retching violently as the smell of blood and burned flesh filled his nostrils.

He didn’t know battle would be like this, fear and adrenaline mixing with the gore, reminding him of pain and humiliation. He heaved again and again, until there was nothing left to bring up but bile and the muscles of his stomach ached from the movement.

“Put your damn helmet back on, Stark.” Barnes kicked said helmet at him.

“Go to hell.”

“Steve wants us to do one last sweep for tech before we blow the place.”

Howard spat and took a deep breath. “Give me a minute.”

“I don’t have to give you anything, Stark. Unless you're on all fours for another reason. “ Barnes pressed his foot to Howard's ass and shoved.

Something inside of him snapped and he launched himself at Barnes with a roar. They both went down, grappling with each other, rolling on the ground like two teenagers. Barnes got in a few good punches to the face, but Howard still had most of his suit on so he was well protected.

God, he hated Barnes. Hated him for every snide remark, every dirty insinuation, every lingering look that Steve gave him, every gentle touch, and whispered word.

He straddled Barnes' hips and pulled back his fist: he’d bash his brains in. But before he could bring it down, there was a soft whistling sound, then the thunk of metal meeting metal, and he was flying back and landing on his ass, hard.

“That’s enough!” Steve plucked his shield from the air as it came back to him and glared. “I am so sick of your fighting! We’re on a damn battlefield! Dum Dum, help Howard up and do a tech sweep. Bucky, take two guys and take care of anyone we might have missed. Ten minutes, then we blow the place. Move!”

*****

Steve was punishing Howard. He sat on the other side of the fire, poking at it with a stick, ignoring Howard’s stare, the way he ignored the apologies earlier.

Howard ached so much that it hurt. He could only be glad that Barnes was getting the same treatment. He was so intent on Steve that he didn’t notice Dum Dum until the man flopped down on the ground next to him.

Dum Dum held out his canteen and Howard took it without thinking. “Drink.”

He did and wound up spitting out half of it. “Fuck! What is that? Kerosene?”

Dum Dum laughed. “The second drink’s easier.”

Howard took another swig; it was, but just barely. “Thanks.”

“The first battle is always the hardest. It’s best to get drunk after, if you can.”

“It won’t take me long with this.” He brought the canteen to his mouth tipped his head back, and guzzled the contents.

By the time he finished the canteen, he was plastered. But the ache didn’t go away and Steve still wouldn’t look at him. It was Barnes’ fault. All this was because of Barnes. Maybe if he told Steve that, they'd go off and have sex.

There was no way he could stand in the condition he was in, so he crawled over to Steve—let the others think what they wanted about him—and nuzzled his ear.

"Leave me alone, Howard." Despite Steve's words, he didn't push Howard away.

"No," he whispered, gently nipping Steve's earlobe. "I had too much to drink, I need to piss."

"So piss." Steve dropped the volume of his voice to match Howard's.

"Need you to help me, Steve. My hands hurt and I'm so full I'm aching, if I don’t hurry I might piss myself. You don't want me to piss myself, do you?"

"Maybe…" Steve swallowed hard, then straightened his back, resolved. "Maybe I do."

Howard flushed and looked away. That's when he caught Barnes' staring at Steve. The look in Barnes' eyes made him sick.

No, he thought, no, Steve's mine. You can't give him what he needs like I can.

"Kiss me," he said and Steve did.

Howard sighed, parting his lips, letting Steve explore his mouth, relaxing into it. When he knew they were all paying attention, whether they wanted to or not, he gave in to his bladder's demands.

Steve gasped, his eyes widening, when he realized what Howard had done. He got to his feet, hauling Howard up with him, "Come on," He dragged Howard away from the camp into the waiting darkness around them.

"Not too far, Cap," Dum Dum called, but Steve wasn't listening.

As soon as they were far enough away, Steve ran a hand over the damp fabric of Howard's crotch. "You did it," he said, his voice shaking.

Howard leaned into his touch and moaned softly. "I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?" Steve blushed and swallowed hard.

"Just name it."

"When we get back to base, will you… f-fuck me?" He looked terrified at the thought.

Howard couldn't stop his hips from jerking against Steve's hand. "If that's what you really want, yes."

*****

Howard slowly licked a path up Steve's spine and nuzzled the back of his neck. "You're sure," he asked for the twentieth time. "We can stop. You don't have to do this."

Steve shuddered and inhaled sharply. "It felt good with him. It felt good and I hated it. It made me feel sick and dirty. I need to know if can feel good with someone I love. I need to know if he ruined it. Ruined me."

He kissed Steve's shoulder. "No one could ruin you. You're the best thing in my life, Steve. Now just relax, I'll take care of you for a while."

Steve nodded and closed his eyes.

Howard slid a hand down Steve's back, marveling at the smooth, warm skin, then with a touch urged him to spread his legs. "That's right. You're perfect."

God, he loved that Steve's body flushed all over when he was embarrassed. He knelt between Steve's legs, and parted his cheeks with his thumbs. He gently blew on the tight little opening, smiling when Steve let out a hitched little moan. He leaned in, gave it an experimental lick.

And oh, Steve let out a strangled cry, his hips lifting off the bed. "Howard!"

If Steve was going to react like that, then he could definitely do this. He gave a firmer lick; who knew Steve could make noises like that. Just listening to him made Howard hard.

All right, now that he knew that Steve could like it, it was time to experiment. Howard started off with slow, gentle licks, cataloguing Steve's reactions, the way he spread his legs wider, and move his hips, the way he moaned and made little pleading sounds deep in his throat. Rougher licks made him jerk and pant into the pillow, his toes curling.

The best reaction, though, the very best, was when Howard pressed his tongue against Steve's entrance and pushed. Steve ground his hips into the bed and tried to muffle the exquisite sounds he was making in the pillow. Howard could feel the hole loosen. God, he could do this forever.

"Howard, Howard, please!" Steve was sobbing. It didn't sound like he was upset, but Howard had to be sure.

"Do you want me to stop?" Please, please, say no.

"More, gimme more."

"Oh, yes." He knelt up and grabbed the pot of salve from the nightstand. His hands shook as he eagerly opened it and scooped some onto his fingers.

Steve shoved a pillow under his hips and tried to spread his legs even wider. His body was flushed, but not with embarrassment. "Hurry!"

Howard rubbed the salve against Steve's hole and murmured, "That's it, just like that. Oh, you're so good, I know you like that."

Steve gave a choked laugh. "Y-you're talkin' to me like one of your m-machines."

"Well, I love my machines." He slowly breached Steve with one finger.

"Ah, ah! No, no, keep going, I'm all right."

Howard bit his lip; Steve was virgin tight and hot, so hot. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, keep going." Steve's voice was thick with pleasure. "Another one."

He wasn't sure he could get another one in, but then Steve relaxed and it was all right. He took a deep breath and curled his fingers. Steve let out a wail and rocked on his fingers. Howard dug his nails into his own thigh, the pain helping him back off from the edge. He was not some teenage boy who was going to come without being touched.

"Howard, please, please… more."

Oh, he liked Steve greedy. He moved his fingers in and out of Steve's body like a piston, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Steve made little grunting sounds each time Howard pushed in and when he pulled out, Steve gasped.

"Come on, Steve. Show me how you want me to fuck you."

Steve groaned and began to rock, slowly at first, as if testing his resolve, then faster, pushing back to meet Howard's fingers.

Howard could watch Steve do this all night. He could make Steve come with his fingers again and again until they were both wrung out from the pleasure of it. But that wasn't why they were here. He pulled out his fingers, smiling as Steve groaned in disappointment.

"Roll over," he said and slathered his dick with a thick coating of the salve.

It took Steve a moment to flip himself over and, oh, Howard had to close his eyes and count to twenty.

Steve was… he looked debauched: his hair was tousled, his body sweaty and flushed, his cock curved against his belly, leaking with arousal.

Howard opened his eyes and lurched up to kiss Steve's swollen mouth. Steve kissed back, desperately, moaning softly. He pulled away and urged Steve to pull his knees to his chest. "If it hurts, Steve…"

"I'll tell you."

He pushed into the heat of Steve's body, fighting the urge to just shove in, take what was being offered. He made soft whining sounds that might have been embarrassing at any other time.

When he was balls deep in Steve, he stopped, and forced out the word he needed to say. "Alright?"

Steve shifted; Howard hissed. "Yeah. Move."

That was all the permission he needed. He tried to go slowly at first, tried to be gentle, but Steve wouldn't have any of it.

He wrapped his legs around Howard's waist and moved against him. "Come on, come on, faster, harder."

That was all the permission he needed.

He pounded into Steve, moaning and grunting, feeling Steve's cock drag against his stomach, leaving wet trails of precome.

He loved it and he wished he could stay like this forever, making Steve moan and writhe underneath him.

"Howard, Howard, I—" Steve arched his back, suddenly, clamping around Howard's dick, his own spilling between them.

Howard's breath hitched in his throat and his mouth went dry as he watched a look of intense pleasure cross Steve's face. "Steve," he pleaded.

And Steve let out a breathy moan. "Now, Howard."

Fuck! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. . It was like his whole body was caught up in one of his engineering epiphanies: surprise and pleasure merging with the satisfaction of his own genius.

He gave one last thrust, then slumped against Steve, panting harshly.

It took him a moment to get his head started up again, but once he did, he realized that Steve was shaking. He looked up; his stomach clenched. "Steve? What— I hurt you!"

"No! N-No." Steve covered his face with his arm so Howard wouldn't see the tears.

He carefully slipped out of Steve and curled around him protectively. "Then what's wrong?"

"I'm not… H-He didn't…I-I'm not…"

Oh. Howard pressed a kiss to Steve's hair. "No, no, you're not. You're not ruined at all."

*****

Howard sat as still as he could and tried not to look at the piece of rebar that managed to pierce through his armor into his shoulder. It was hard to ignore, though, when each panting breath send a sharp wave of agony through his body.

"Howard, Howard, look at me. Good, that’s good." Steve gently stroked his face and smiled. "Gabe's going to cut a hole around the rebar and we're going to get you out of the suit. But you're breathing too fast and the metal is moving. You need to take a deep breath and exhale slowly."

"C-Can't. C-Can't." Oh God, oh God, why couldn't he just pass out.

"Yes, you can. You can. No, no, look at me, Howard. Don’t try to talk either. Just breathe." Steve took a deep calming breath and Howard tried to duplicate it. "That's it, just like that."

He took another breath and… fuck! He cried out which sent him into fresh paroxysms of agony.

"This isn't working. We need to get it out of him now or he could bleed out." Jacques said. "Steve, Bucky, hold him still. Gabe, work fast."

"Don't. Steve, don't. Please. Please!" Howard screamed as the pain flared up, shoving everything else into the background.

And, then, when the pain was too much… darkness.

*****

He kept phasing in and out of consciousness, shards of reality and pain cutting into the numbing darkness.

"Damn it, hurry, he's going into shock."

Then, "Straight out, Cap. Fast!"

Pain, sharp and bright. He screamed, his body convulsing.

Darkness again.

He opened his eyes and saw Jacques gesturing at Steve, his hands covered in red. What funny looking gloves. "He's lost too much blood."

"The extraction team will be here in two hours." Steve sounded upset and Howard wished he could go to him. Comfort him.

"He won't make it two hours. He needs a transfusion now. Why the hell isn't he wearing dog tags? Does anybody know his blood type?"

The world was going gray around the edges and he wanted to sleep. But there was something… what was it? "Steve?" he whispered.

Suddenly Steve was there at his side. "Howard, no, don't move. Conserve your strength. We'll be home soon."

Steve sounded shaky, frightened. He was going to tell Steve something. What was it? He frowned as he tried to concentrate, but things kept slipping away. "C-Can't think."

"You lost a lot of blood, Howard."

Right, blood. That was it. "Blood. Steve, my b-blood, your b-blood." Yes, that's right. He said it again. "My blood and your blood."

"Howard, you're not making any sense."

Of course he was, Steve just didn't understand. He needed Steve to understand. The gray edges were eating up all the color. "My blood, your blood. S-Same blood. Same. S-Sss…" He was so tired.

Steve's eyes brightened and Howard drifted off again

*****

When Howard opened his eyes, a pretty nurse was standing above him taking his blood pressure. He smiled up at her. "Fancy meeting you here."

She smiled back at him. "You said the same thing when they brought you in, Mr. Stark."

"Did I?" He looked around the room. "Where's Steve?"

"Steve? Is he one of the men who brought you in?"

"Yes, the blond. Where is he?" Howard tried to sit up, but the sudden movement aggravated his shoulder and… oh, he wasn't going to do that again.

"I don't know, why don't I page Agent Carter? She wanted to see you as soon as you woke up." Her smile was beginning to grate on him.

"Yeah, you do that."

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait too long for her.

"Good morning, Howard, I'm glad to see you're awake." She sat down on the bed. "We were worried about you. Steve was driving everyone crazy."

"Where's Steve?"

Peggy sighed and stroked his hair. "You were in a coma for three weeks."

Three… No, no, he wasn't going to get distracted. "Where's Steve?"

"You're not going to be happy about this."

"Dammit, will you just—"

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "He's on a mission."

"He's what?" He tried to sit up but she held him down.

"Calm down, Howard. You're going to reinjure yourself. Steve will never forgive me if I let you do that," she said. "He didn't want to go."

"Then why did he?" Howard's voice shook and he looked away.

"Zola, that's why. Steve's gone to capture Zola. He's the only one who can give us Schmidt."

"He should have waited for me."

"He couldn't. We have one chance to get him. One. And we couldn't wait for you to wake up. Now stop being a petulant child."

Howard closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.

"I know you're worried. But he'll be back by the end of the week." She patted his head. "Be a good boy, Howard, and I'll wheel you to your lab. You can make some of your scientists cry."

He opened his eyes and glared at her.

"You'll need to fix your armor, too. There's a big hole in it from where you almost died." She smiled at him and got to her feet. "Perspective, Howard. Perspective. Get some rest, I'll be by after dinner."

When she was almost to the door, he stopped her. "Can you have the nurse bring me some paper and pencils?"

"Of course. Why?"

"I'll need to make some modifications to my suit." He'll have to find some way to compensate for his wound. "The lab will need to get started immediately."

*****

Howard didn’t look up from his work when he heard Steve walk into the room. He was still furious about being left behind, even though he understood there were reasons for it. The past week had been hard and he was tense. Anxious.

He shuddered when Steve walked up behind him and touched the back of his neck. He fought against the desire to lean into the touch and make a soft, contented sound.

“Please, don’t be angry with me,” Steve said, his voice hoarse. “H-Howard, please.”

Howard looked up and dropped the pencil in his hand in alarm. Steve’s eyes were red and his face was streaked with tears. “What happened?”

Steve pulled him up from the stool and gathered him close; his shoulder protested but he ignored the pain. “Bucky. I couldn’t save him.”

“B-Bucky? He’s… dead?”

Steve let out a sob and pressed his cheek against Howard’s hair. “I tried to grab him, b-but he fell. He fell! Howard, we could even find his body. I can't even send him home.”

Howard stroked his back, trying to calm Steve's desperate sobbing; he’d have to get the details from one of the others “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You hated him!”

It would be petty to remind Steve that the feeling was mutual. “But you loved him and he loved you. I’m sorry you're hurting.”

Howard could be magnanimous now that he had won.

He murmured softly, nuzzling Steve's neck, until the sobbing stopped and Steve’s body relaxed against his. “Did you get Zola?” he asked.

Steve nodded and cleared his throat. “Phillips is interrogating him now. As soon as he gives us the information, we’re going to move on Schmidt.”

“Good.” He pulled away and stroked the tears from Steve’s face. “I finished my new suit this morning.”

“You’re not going.”

“Like hell I’m not!” Howard took another step back and glared at him. “We’ve had this discussion before, Steve. I’m not going to be left behind. Not again.”

“You’re still recovering!”

“I’ve made modifications to my suit. I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” Steve grabbed his injured shoulder and he gritted his teeth against the sudden pain. ”Is that fine, Howard?”

He jerked away from Steve’s grasp and leaned against the worktable. Fuck, that hurt! “If you try to leave me again, I’ll follow you.” He looked at Steve. “You owe me this. I never would have been there if it weren’t for you. Schmidt never would have hurt me. But no, you had to go play hero. And I paid for it, every day for months, I paid for it.”

Steve took a step back and looked away. “I… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Howard swallowed hard and clenched his hands. “If you leave me, you will. If you leave me, we’ll be over. I won’t ever let you touch me again. I'll never need you again. Never again.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Sometimes, I hate you.”

He smiled grimly. “Sometimes I hate you, too.”

*****

At Phillips’ signal, Howard blasted through the front doors of Schmidt’s base. He spared a quick glance around the room, eyes lighting on Steve, noting he was safe.

Then Howard saw Schmidt. He lifted his gauntlets and began firing.

The bastard ran and Steve chased after him. He would have followed, but the HYDRA agents opened fire.

He lifted his gauntlets and returned fire. Steve had better not kill Schmidt before he got there. His pulse pounded loudly in his ears and all he could think was how much he wanted to dismantle this place, piece by piece.

Then he thought about Steve and Schmidt.

"Dum Dum," he yelled.

"What do you need, Stark, I'm in the middle of something!"

"Hurry up! I need you to cover me. I've got to find Steve." He made his way towards the corridor, but it was slow moving.

"I got ya, Stark. Kick Schmidt's corpse a few times for me."

The rattle of Dum Dum's tommy gun drowned out the sound of Howard's laughter. His shoulder ached as he ran for the corridor and the weight of his suit made it hard to move very fast, but he had to get to Steve. He had to be there to watch Schmidt die.

A few minutes later, he caught up with Peggy and the Colonel. "Steve," he asked.

"He went that way." Peggy gestured with a nod of her head. He saluted to her and ignored her, "Howard, wait!"

The next suit he made would be lighter. Maybe he could get his hands on more vibranium. Somewhere.

*****

He never did catch up to Steve, but as he stopped at the opening of the airplane hangar to catch his breath, he saw Steve jump onto the undercarriage of Schmidt’s plane as it flew away. Dammit, dammit, dammit! He gritted his teeth and ran to the end of the tarmac, jumping off the edge, freefalling a few moments before engaging his rocket boosters.

He was beginning to hate airplanes.

Flying the suit wasn't easy, he kept over-correcting, and at one point he went into a spin and almost hit the side of a mountain. He almost stopped and turned around.

Then he remembered Schmidt. He remembered all the things Schmidt did to him and to Steve. No, no, he had to be there when Steve killed Schmidt. He wanted to watch that monster die.

"Come on, baby, let's see what you do." He set his boosters on full power.

*****

It wasn't the most graceful of landings, but Howard managed not to fall on his ass or overshoot his landing when he tumbled into the exposed undercarriage of the plane.

He looked around and his blood went cold when he saw the rows of nuclear bombs with the names of American cities painted on them. It reminded him that there was more at stake than just revenge.

He took a deep breath and moved. He had to get to the cockpit.

*****

When he got to the cockpit, Steve and Schmidt were already locked in battle.

They both saw Howard at the same time and Schmidt used the distraction to throw Steve across the cabin.

“Well, well, well, Captain America, your iron man decided to show up. Who is he, I wonder? I've heard so much about him.”

Steve slowly got to his feet and picked up his shield.

“You want to see who I am!” Howard reached up and took off his helmet. He was shaking so hard it took a few tries. He threw his helmet across the room. “Remember me.”

Schmidt laughed. “Stark! It seems my cowardly scientist grew a backbone.”

“He’s not your anything, Schmidt!” Steve shouted.

“Ah,” Schmidt said looking at Steve thoughtfully. “But he’s certainly something of yours, isn't he? You took to my lessons well, Captain.”

Steve roared and launched himself at Schmidt. “Howard, the bombs!”

He cursed and stripped off his gauntlets as Steve and Schmidt grappled with each other. He looked over the controls, in despair. He didn't have time to figure this out. He had to think, he had to ignore the danger that Steve was in. If he didn’t get this right the whole eastern seaboard would be one big wasteland. His family, his friends would be gone. And Steve would blame him. He began flipping switches and hitting buttons, trying to find the right sequence to disengage the targeting systems.

Wait, what if---

Something hot and bright struck the flight console and he flew across the room from the explosion, hitting the bulkheadl of the plane. For a moment he was too stunned to do anything but try to catch his breath, then he saw.. His eyes widened. It looked like lightning coming from a… a cube. It was spreading… that wasn’t electricity. What… What was that thing?

He slowly got to his feet, watching Schmidt hold up the damn cube and rant at Steve. The light coming from that cube was crazy, he could feel the crackle of it against his skin. Then suddenly, the light from the cube flared and Schmidt screamed.

Howard closed his eyes against the brightness and when he opened them again a few moments later, Schmidt was gone and the cube was sinking through the floor of the plane like a hot knife through butter.

“What the hell was that?” he asked angrily. “Where’d Schmidt go?”

“He disappeared, like magic.” Steve smiled wanly. Then suddenly his face paled. “The plane, we have to land it! Can you do it?”

“Something this big? I can try.” Howard ran over to the control console, Steve right behind him. “No, no, no! That damn cube fried half the flight computers.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the only way we’re landing this thing is if we crash it.” He swallowed hard and grabbed the controls. He looked at Steve. “Where?”

Steve shuddered and put his hand on Howard’s shoulder. “The water. It’s the only way.”

“You could jump.” He licked his lips; he’d kill for a drink. “You might have a chance.”

“I’m not leaving you, Howard.” Steve was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got you into this mess. I know—“

“Steve, shut up! I need to concentrate.” Then he said, softly, "I’m just glad we’re together.”

As they approached impact, he closed his eyes and stepped back against Steve.

*****

Glenn Miller was playing on the radio and when Howard opened his eyes, Steve was staring down at him with a concerned frown.

He frowned back; they weren’t dead. He blinked and slowly looked around; it was nothing like the hospital rooms back at base, it was too bright, cheerful. And they never played music.

"I like this song," he rasped. He needed a drink.

"Yeah, me, too." Steve stroked Howard's cheek with his thumb.

He sighed and nuzzled Steve's hand. “Where are we?”

Steve smiled and kissed him gently on the mouth. “The future.”


End file.
